Half Human
by Liberama
Summary: "Just remember, if he's half snake, then he's half human too." A romantic mystery in the Noah's Ark Circus. Snake/OC. Rated T for language, suggestive themes, and slight yaoi. 1886. Yana Toboso owns Kuroshitsuji; I don't. Hiatus.
1. Freak

The others don't know what it's like. They have no idea how it is to spend every minute of every day with your mind crushed by layers of monochrome hissing, with the words you never needed to hear swirling amidst the ceaseless rush. They will never know. No one will ever know.

I splayed myself across the hard cot, not caring to remove clothes or shoes. Who cared? Why bother? The snarl of thoughts and snaketongue roiled through my skull. Did it have to be like this?

"Stop that," Emily whispered, slick scales rippling around my neck.

"Stop what?" I spat back at her.

"You know what. Stop being so angsty." She coiled down my shoulder, rough and cold as hard-packed snow, and came to rest wrapped around my forearm.

"What, so it's my fault I'm a goddamned _freak_?" I growled, forgetting to be quiet.

"I'm not saying that," Emily said soothingly, pulling herself tighter around my wrist.

"Like hell you aren't," I muttered. I sat up and pulled my knees in to my chest, ignoring the solid weight of her on one hand. She writhed against my skin, head twitching back and forth across my knuckles. "I wish I could just leave."

"You know you can't do that." She bit my thumb lightly, not quite enough to draw blood. "Calm down. Would you rather be where you were before?"

"At this point, yes!" I cried, losing all semblance of decency. "At least they said it to my face! At least they didn't sneak around behind my back and think I didn't know! At least–" She cut me off with a snarl.

"_I said calm down_. Who called you a freak?"

"I don't know. One of the second-tier members. I never bothered to learn their names. They're all scared of me anyways." I flopped back down, eyes burning.

"Go tell Joker. He'll deal with it."

"How much of a coward would I look then? 'Oh, Mama, someone called me a bad name!' As if."

"Well, are you doing any good sitting here sulking?"

"Just leave me alone, would you?" I yelled, flinging her off my arm and across the room. She thumped into the curtain wall, slid to the dirt-packed floor, and slithered off with an affronted hiss. I stood up, disregarding the serpents flooding away from my feet as I stalked outside.

Scents filled the camp. Rain dampening the misty air, trampled grass, musty canvas, thick waxy makeup, Beast's heavy spice perfume, her tigers, Doll's roses. I wrinkled my nose at the onslaught and hurried outside the camp, where all I could smell was rain and wind and leaves.

Cold afternoon sunlight sliced through the light fog, affording me a good view through the dense forest. I scrambled my way up a tree, perching on one of the low branches with all my limbs wrapped around the rippled bark. I pressed my cheek to the wood, eyes stinging. Just from the cold, I told myself. A puddle had formed below me in last night's downpour, and its mirrored surface afforded me all too good a view of my face. Jade scales tattooed my cheekbones and eyes in unsightly, haphazard blotches that extended all the way down into the neckline of my shirt. I looked like a victim of some comical sort of pox.

I ran a hand roughly over my face, momentarily obscuring the spectre that stared back at me from ten feet below. Why was it like this? Couldn't I be, well, normal? I took that thought back almost immediately. Normal would mean I had to leave the circus.

An interruption in the commotion of noise running through my head stopped my thoughts for an instant. A more familiar voice rang out above the mutterings of the forest's scaled denizens.

"Wilde?" I called, voice cracking.

"Yes," came the gruff response.

"How did you find me?"

"Humans leave scents. You of all people ought to know that."

"Don't remind me," I said, keeping my voice deliberately low.

"I apologize, but that was only a minor reason. I know how you think. We're kin, after all. What did Emily do to you, that you would do that to her?"

"Is she alright?" I asked, suddenly concerned that I'd done more than irritate her.

"Sulking in a corner. Uninjured, if that's your worry." I relaxed.

"It was. Why did you come find me?"

"Is unease regarding your tantrum not a good enough reason?" I remained silent. "Joker just got back. There's been a big uproar. I assumed you'd want to hear about it."

"What's going on?" I finally managed to pinpoint Wilde's dusky silhouette at the base of my tree, and began manoeuvring my way down towards it.

"I don't know exactly. I heard," he paused dramatically, and I could almost feel the smugness in his voice. I resolved not to give in. "I heard that there might be someone new joining."

At that moment, I lost my grip on a patch of wet bark and plummeted the three yards straight into a puddle, fracturing my offending reflection into a million glassy shards. I struggled to my feet, not caring that I was thoroughly drenched and the white stripes on my shirt had turned murky mud-brown. "_What_?"

"You heard me." If snakes could preen, Wilde was.

I forgot my resolution almost immediately and sprinted to follow the winding serpent through short grass back to the camp. The clamour was audible from far away. Once I got closer, I began picking out words from it. Joker's usually deep voice was going thin with shouting for quiet, which was apparently not very successful. The general bedlam continued despite his and, I could now hear, Dagger and Beast's protesting. I wondered why such pandemonium. The arrival of a new performer, though it had never happened after my own appearance, did not seem a cause for this amount of disorder. I certainly did not remember it from my joining.

I thought ahead far enough to duck into my tent before facing everyone in my state of general disrepair. My only other clothes were a plain, loose white shirt and black trousers, not nearly as dramatic as the striped performance costume I wore then. It would have to do. I slipped the baggy clothes on, glad that they covered more of my scales.

Critically, I examined myself in the mirror. Mud caked all my visible skin. I rubbed it off as best I could, and turned away, unable to face the gemstone green patterning my face for more than a few moments. I stooped to collect a dozen of my snakes, raising my arms to allow them to conceal themselves in my clothes. "Emily?" I called softly.

"What do you want?" she said sullenly.

"Come meet the new kid with me. Please?"

"Why should I?"

"You and Wilde and Webster and the others are always with me. Whoever the new kid is, they should meet you all. And I mean _all_, including you. Come on." She dangled limply from my fingers as I picked her up and curled her around my neck with Wilde.

"Fine," she grumbled, settling into the hollow between my collarbones. I pushed the makeshift fabric doors out of my way and stepped out, blinking in the sudden, rainy brightness. A crowd had gathered down to my left. I walked towards it, suddenly nervous.

Dagger was first to notice me. He grinned, making the ever-present dots under his eyes crinkle into tiny crescent moons. "Hey, Snake! Come meet the new girl!"

Girl? I thought, growing more anxious by the minute. The girls in our audiences were frightened by me, screamed if I came to close to the edge of the ring. I hoped this one wouldn't be the same. I couldn't stand any more of that.

Just then, I reached the edge of the group. The outside second-tier performers flinched away from me, leaving a path that closed together in back of me. Stuck behind Freckles, who refused to budge, I peered over her shoulder.

At first all I could make out was Joker, Dagger, and Beast in the centre of the cluster, huddled protectively around someone else. They'd given up yelling and were simply standing there, waiting for the others to calm down. I looked closer at the small figure hunched in between them.

The noise eventually died down around me, leaving a ghastly sort of silence. Finally, the tiny presence in the middle of the circle looked up, eyes wide.

"Alright, then, everyone, could I ask you to leave now? No, Emma, that was _not_ a question. We have a performance tonight. Go practice. Jumbo, Wendy, Peter, keep an eye on them," Joker ordered, back to the crowd. I turned to leave with the second-tier members. First-tier I might be, but no one wanted me around. "No, Snake, stay here," said Joker, still facing away from me. "Rachel, you need to meet the circus."

"Are they gone?" came a weak voice.

"Yes. Now, come on," Dagger answered. He knelt down, and stood back up with the form of a child limp in his arms. She looked up, but did not meet anyone's eyes. "This is Rachel. She's joining us." I realized why the girl had never stood up. One of her legs, like Beast's, was missing all the way to the hip, as was one of her arms. Instead of drawing away in disgust, our circle moved in closer. "Welcome to the Noah's Ark Circus. Everyone, introduce yourselves to Rachel."

I hid myself shyly behind Doll, not wanting to be seen. Introductions drifted around the circle, finally coming to Doll and I. "I'm Doll, but mostly I go by Freckles. I walk tightrope. This is Snake." I shrank back. "He's the snake charmer, and he's actually half snake." Only Doll could sound excited by that, I thought.

There was a faint gasp from Rachel. I removed myself from behind Doll, braced for a scream. Her only response was a curious, "Does it talk?"

Action stormed around me. Emily and Wilde lashed out of my sleeves, giving me barely a moment to restrain them. Joker arranged himself in front of me with lightning speed, blocking my view of the girl. Beast pinned my arms behind me. I shrugged her off. Mutterings began in my head. I transmitted them in a monotone. "It's a valid question. Says Bronte. Move, Joker. Says Oscar." I looked at the offending creature, huddled in Dagger's arms, and found it impossible to be angry with her. Emily murmured something philosophical at me. "Just remember, if he's half snake, then he's half human too. Says Emily."

There was silence from the girl. "Snake, perhaps you ought to talk normally," suggested Doll.

"Fine. For now." I paused for a moment. "Emily says, 'We all have opinions too, though!'" I looked at Doll. "Sorry, but I have to let them speak."

"Snake is telling us what his snakes are saying," Joker translated for Rachel. "You'll get used to it eventually." The aforementioned serpents poked their heads out my sleeves, introducing themselves one by one. I relayed their words quietly, blushing slightly when Emily found an opportune moment to start flirting with Dagger, who stifled a grin. Whether at my discomfiture or at the snake, I wasn't sure.

"That's quite interesting, actually," Rachel commented. I inspected her carefully, realizing that diminutive as she was, she was much older than I had thought. Her voice was low, but soft, matching the deep bluish slate of her eyes. She had to be at least my age, but from what I could see of her, would scarcely come up to my shoulder. Her hair had been unevenly chopped off at ear length, but I could imagine it having once been far longer. She was pretty, I decided, although not really my type. I cut that line of thought off immediately. I didn't want to think of what had happened last time I'd fallen in love. "My name is Rachel. I'm sixteen." No other information appeared to be forthcoming.

"Alright. Rachel, do you want dinner with us, or should I find you somewhere to rest?" Joker asked her gently.

"Somewhere to rest. Please," she responded, equally quiet. Wordlessly, Joker reached around her and lifted her away from Dagger. She flinched at the touch of his skeletal prosthetic, and then went uncomfortably still.

"Dagger, can I put her in your tent for the afternoon? I'll figure out permanent assignments later," Joker said, and walked off without waiting for a response.

"Sure," Dagger called after his retreating back, and then to us, "Who wants food? I'm starving."

A chorus of affirmative responses rang out, and we proceeded towards our makeshift dining hall. I lagged slightly behind, stooping to release a series of snakes from my clothes. They could go catch their own mice. People tended to get upset when I brought them to the dinner table.

Dinner remained, as per usual, a simple affair. I ate the offered food without tasting it or really noticing what it was. It was too early for me to be really hungry. On performance nights we ate at four, hours before the show would start. I excused myself from the table before everyone else, and went to go collect my snakes so we could practice. If it could be called practicing. We mainly argued about my showmanship, or general lack thereof.

It was an amazing summer night outside, the sky vibrant in a way that turned the whole world to a painting. A slight breeze wafted the scents of the camp away from me, replacing them with the chirping crickets of oncoming night. I called out to my partners in a hiss, the human part of me listening to the strangled sound and wondering how this was language.

"What was that?" A bleary voice materialized in the silent air. I recognized it only as Rachel poked her head out of one of the tents. "Oh, it's you. What were you doing?" She walked outside, limping heavily on the new false leg she wore.

I carefully arranged my vocal cords into human speech. "Calling my snakes. They were out getting food for themselves." As if on cue, Goethe and Wordsworth twined themselves around my legs. I knelt down to allow Emily, Wilde, Oscar, and the rest into my sleeves.

"Hello, Rachel. Says Oscar." I relaxed into the comfortable rhythm of speaking for the snakes, leaving myself silent.

"I've been wanting to talk to you," Rachel announced.

"About what? Says Goethe."

"I'm not saying unless you actually speak to me. Sorry, but I don't need to talk to snakes."

"I suppose you don't want to talk to me, either, then," I said bitterly, ignoring Emily and Wilde's constant commentary.

"That's not what I meant!" she protested.

"What did you mean, then? Says Wordsworth."

"Is it so hard to just have a conversation with me? All I want to do is apologize."

"Continue, then. Says Emily."

"I won't if you talk in snakes all the time. I want to hear what you, not they, have to say."

"Fine. Continue." Angry hisses rolled through my head. "Emily! Goethe! Oscar! Quiet!" I dropped out of English to reprimand them. "You can keep talking after I'm done with this." I switched back into a language my human companion would understand, pointedly ignoring the stunned look on Rachel's face. "Sorry about that. Go on."

She stuttered. "I-I just wanted t-to say sorry. F-for treating you l-like an animal."

"It's no worse than what many do." I stared at her for a minute, then smirked and added, "And you don't have to be scared of me, either."

"I'm not!" she cried angrily.

"You're shaking and can't speak clearly. You won't meet my eyes. And you reek of terror. Don't tell me you're not frightened. You can't lie to me."

"Alright, then! I'm petrified. Are you satisfied?"

"At least you admit it. Leave us alone. Says Webster." I walked away, leaving her staring blankly ahead at me. Usually it felt good to take out my anger on someone, but this just left me weak and empty and guilty. I knew who I was furious with, and it wasn't her. It was myself.

I took my mind away from the loathing by practicing my act, which was rather boring to my own eyes. All I had to do was teach the snakes to do _this _on _that _command, whether it was a strike when I raised one hand or a swaying dance as I played the flute. They knew what to do already, so rehearsal occupied us only long enough to run though the performance once. I wondered how the audience found this so enthralling.

I realized moments after finishing that my circus outfit, which I had been wearing when I fell out of the tree, was still covered with mud. Pulling it off the ground, I examined the damage, swearing under my breath and wondering how quickly I could wash and dry it.

"Knock, knock," someone called from outside the tent.

"Come in, Doll. Says Keats." She pushed one of the tent flaps open, making me wince and blink in the sudden light. The sun had still not set, leaving fiery light glowing across the whole landscape.

"I wish you wouldn't do that, Snake. I know you can talk, yourself, if you want to."

"Perhaps we have more to say. Says Wilde."

"Sure, sure." She caught sight of my dismayed glaring at the clothes spread across the floor. "Do you need some help with that?"

"Would you? We don't know what to do. Says Emily."

"Here, it's easy enough to wash it off, and if it doesn't air dry soon enough then I think we could iron the water out." She picked up the shirt, brushing mud off of its front. "And the boots are easy enough, just get the dirt off and a bit of polish will do just fine."

"Should we do that? Says Wordsworth."

"Sure. I think Joker probably has some polish. Go get it from his tent." I shoved my way out the heavy cloth doors, once more into the ruby sunset.

_Author's Note: So, this is my first fanfiction. I kind of love Snake, so I figured he'd be a good first protagonist. I'm trying not to go too out of character with any of this, but sorry if I do. Anyways, about the story. I am aware this chapter at least certainly does not deserve a teen rating, but it will get more mature soon. I think. For the next chapter at least, which will be a bit of yaoi, so if you're terribly homophobic or something then skip it. I am also aware that this story seems kind of plotless and boring at this point, but I hope it'll get more interesting soon. So yeah. Author out._


	2. Performance

Doll and I only barely managed to fix my costume in time, leaving it stiff and annoyingly damp against my skin. I shivered, cool wind flattening the fabric against me, and wrapped my arms around myself. Arranged in a loose semicircle around Joker, Dagger, and Beast, the circus waited.

"Alright, I know there's been a bit of…uproar…today," Joker began, "but we can't miss this performance. A lot of the nobles are supposed to be coming, and we _have _to give our best show. Does everyone know the order we go on in?" There was a ripple of mixed answers around the circle. "Jumbo starts off the show. Then we have myself, then Dagger, then tightropes and trapeze, and then Snake and Beast. Got it? Good. Any questions?" There was silence. "Then let's do it." The group shattered, leaving me trembling, alone, in the growing dark.

The wind was blowing back away from me, so I was startled to feel a whisper of breath across my neck. Jumping, I turned to face Doll, who smiled and put her arm around me, white roses fairly glowing in the dim moonlight. I went taut.

"Calm down," she said soothingly. "You look freezing. I should have remembered snakes are cold-blooded." I flinched at that, but tried to relax. "Why are you so jumpy, anyways? No one here's going to hurt you."

"They would have where we were before. It's habit. Says Dan." The speaker slid up across my chest and poked his head out my collar.

"You _know_ I hate how you do that. I told you, I know you can talk, yourself, if you want to."

"We're used to it. Says Wilde. You should learn. Says Goethe."

"Don't pin that on me! If you're too afraid of us to let us know what you're thinking, then it's not my fault." She let go of me and stormed away. I curled back in on myself, already wishing again for the warmth she provided.

After a quarter hour of cold and self pity, I decided to go watch the show. Most of the performers were gathered around one stage entrance, listening in on the jabber of the crowd as the watchers filed in. I pushed through them and went to stand just inside, below one of the rings of bleachers. The tent was full of a sourceless, warm light, and the heat of that and of a hundred bodies packed together was welcome. I trembled, trying to shudder warmth back into my limbs.

All of a sudden, the firelights went out, hurtling the space into oily blackness. The chatter hushed immediately. With a roar, a pillar of fire flashed up from the center of the ring, illuminating the watchful faces of the spectators. It died away with seemingly unnatural languor, leaving the room once again in pitch darkness.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the show began with a shout from Joker in the center of the stage, and then continued with Dagger's, from somewhere across the ring.

"Boys and girls," and then that voice was silent and Doll's clear soprano resumed the introduction from somewhere high in the ropes.

"Welcome to the Noah's Ark Circus!" A cheer rose up, and then softened as the flickering oil lamps came back to life, revealing a selection of members posed across the stage. Doll seemed to hover on the tightrope platform far above the audience. Across from her, Peter held the trapeze bar with Wendy already hanging from it by her knees. Miles below, or so it seemed, Dagger stood poised, one arm back, a glintingly sharp knife in his hand. One of Beast's tigers sat regally by the edge of the ring, immediately drawing all attention. Curled into the classic striking pose, Wordsworth lashed out towards the other semicircle of spectators.

In the very center of it all stood Joker, colored globes in one hand and the other stretched up into the air. Suddenly, the whole thing came to life. Wendy swung across the open air in one direction as Doll sprinted by from another. The tiger roared. Wordsworth hissed and spat. And then they were all gone except Joker, leaving Dagger's knife still quivering, buried to the handle in a wooden target.

The juggling balls began to spin through the air faster and faster, until the colors merged into a single blur. I stared appreciatively. You could hardly tell he was missing an arm.

Acts merged into each other seamlessly in practice, so that there was scarcely time to realize one had ended before another began. I crossed my fingers that the performance could go so well. The whips of fire from Jumbo's act had smoothly transitioned into Joker's juggling, and as he bowed himself offstage I could already see Dagger flitting around the edges, next to unnoticeable, arranging his props.

His or Beast's was the most dramatic act of all, and I was hard pressed to decide which. The silver streaks of blades seemingly hanging in midair drew gasps from the crowd, and left even me figuratively on the edge of my seat for the finale. The classic knife thrower's act, it brought Doll up to center stage against a target slashed by dozens of knife marks. Dagger tied her up against it and blindfolded her, leaving one arm free to wave and glitter at the audience, who edged forwards nervously.

Moments later, the whole board trembled as a barrage of knives slammed into it, perfectly outlining Doll's body in sparkling points. She stepped away from it, to _oohs _and _ahs _from the watchers. The daggers had come so close to her skin that they'd sliced apart the ropes binding her there and pinned one of the roses on her headdress flat onto the board, but only a few people seemed to realize how near the knives had actually been. I was close enough to smell the blood leaking from a crimson slash along her neck, leaving a tiny rust stain on the wood, and I knew Dagger saw it, because he flushed and his eyes went wide. With apparent effort, he resumed his normal expression, bowed, and darted offstage.

Without removing the blindfold, Doll twirled across the stage, smiling all the while, until she reached the ladder. I saw her lips moving as she ascended. So that was how she kept track; I'd seen this act a few times before but had never realized she counted the steps and rungs to keep her place. Finally reaching the top, she perched on the precariously narrow platform, grin still spread across her face. I watched one toe reach out to the side, feeling for the cobweb thin line. Locating it, she turned, arms spread, and began to walk, adjusting back and forth without ever taking off her blindfold.

Finally reaching the other end, when the audience had long since consigned her to sure death, she untied the cloth from around her face, tossing it down to the ground below. The roses hid one side of her face, doing an admirable job of concealing the scars that disfigured it.

Back and forth, the spectators' eyes went, as she jumped and spun her way along the almost invisible rope. I watched in awe and horror, gasping along with the rest when she seemed to lose her footing for a moment and then sighing when she regained it. For tonight, I decided, I could put away my emotionless cover. You have to smile when you're onstage.

Doll skittered down the ladder and ran offstage, stopping just to curtsy to the watchers and then duck down to retrieve the blindfold. She was trembling as she dashed past me, and as soon as she got outside I saw one hand fly to her neck and the other to another, deeper, cut along her side. I followed her outside, realizing as I did so that I should probably get ready for my act. Wordsworth had returned sometime during the previous performances, startling me with his cool metallic presence coiled around my ankle.

I joined the other performers in the entrance room between stage and outside. Doll was sitting on a table by one wall, with Wendy bustling around, hands full of bandages and salves that she'd always sworn would heal anything. Dagger was sitting opposite her, head in his hands. Joker knelt next to him, muttering something I couldn't hear. As I watched, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair back behind Dagger's ear, the tiny unexpected gesture making me jump. I looked away.

Soon enough, the cheers came, signaling the ending of the trapeze act, and I moved quietly onstage, setting up my chair in the middle of the stage and allowing Goethe and Keats to slip out my sleeves and spiral around the arms. Far above, Wendy and Peter flew through the air, keeping the audience's attention off me for long enough to get set up. I sat down, and waited a seeming eternity for the thud as they dropped into the safety net, and then the patter as they shot offstage. In an instant, everyone's eyes were on me.

Green filters dropped across the now fast-darkening lamps, turning the welcoming warmth of their light into something strange, something alien. I felt the whispers rush through the crowd, knowing what I looked like under the ivy light, and the answer wasn't human. I reached down slowly, consciously letting all the humanity in my movements drop away, and picked up the wooden flute lying by my feet. Beginning gently, and then speeding up, I began to play an eerie tune, one I'd memorized dozens of performances ago. Above my head, Keats and Goethe rolled smoothly through their symmetrical dance, forming intricate curves and rosettes, turning the simple oak chair into a serpentine throne.

At a simple command, one the audience would hardly bother to see, Emily and Wilde slithered out my collar, showing off their delicately patterned scales as they coiled down my arms and then up and around the flute, almost making the tune stumble as they wove between my fingers. With them, the plain instrument became an elegant caduceus, and I a king.

So focused on the dancing snakes were the watchers that they never noticed Dan, Wordsworth and Oscar dropping stealthily from their places around my ankles and swirling off across the barren plain of packed dirt. Soon, though, the light caught on their scales, and my spectators turned their eyes to the serpents etching patterns into the dirt with sweeps of their tails. I murmured a command in snaketongue, softly so that none but my partners would hear. Agonizingly slowly, the paths the scratched formed themselves into neat, cursive letters. "Enjoying yourselves?" I could almost hear the silence, so deep it was, before cries of astonishment and then a resounding "yes!" burst from the audience. Wide swathes of dust erased the words as I hissed new instructions.

As they worked, I resumed the music that had died out as I commanded them. Goethe, Keats, Emily, and Wilde began their silent dance again, twining down around the legs of the chair and across the floor to continue writing. I murmured an order, smirking. This was my favorite part.

Emily left the ring without a fanfare, sliding up into the stands unnoticed. I glanced around at the audience, selecting a target. An old, refined gentleman far up back caught my eye. He'd be easily visible to almost everyone, and the nobles' reactions were always the best. At another quick word, Emily approached the man, who remained oblivious. That is, until she crawled up behind him and across his shoulders.

The man stood bolt upright, whitefaced and trembling. I heard a most undignified squeak from him. The rest of the watchers took a moment to register what was happening, and then seemed torn between laughter at the terrified man and screams of their own. Most settled on snickering. The snake coiled up and around his neck, making a glistening green collar that he shrank away from, whimpering.

Across the floor, the snakes had spelled out an invitation for the man to come down to the ring. He obeyed, nearly paralyzed. Emily curled closer to him, making him wince as he came closer to me. I extended a hand to retrieve the serpent, who rather reluctantly spiraled up my arm and around my throat, the same way she had to the man. He flinched when he saw it, or possibly it was the scales decorating my face; I wasn't sure. I bowed, and Emily ducked her head. "Go on, take a bow," I muttered to the man, omitting the "says Emily". Warily, he bent stiffly at the waist and then bolted away from me.

Meanwhile, the other snakes had finished their current project, an enormous portrait of the whole cast that we'd spent ages perfecting. I left while the audience was distracted, listening to the confusion of cheering. The serpents shot out the door. I collected them, happy to hear the applause. "Come on, let's go watch," Emily suggested enthusiastically.

I followed her lead back into the entrance tent, peering through the crack in the curtains to watch. There wasn't much to watch, as the lights were still out. As I stared, not without anticipation, they dawned back to their ordinary brilliance, revealing a silent tableau of Beast and her tigers.

I wondered if Beast could speak with her tigers the same way I spoke with my snakes. Her control over them seemed so absolute, so precise; I'd often thought she had to. And yet, I didn't think she could. To be so cruel to those whose lives you shared so closely was unimaginable.

The tigers' amber fur shimmered under the stage lights, now returned to their ordinary gold, as they padded carefully around the figures in my drawing. It remained intact through their entire performance, save a delicate paw print placed carefully on Beast's cheek, drawing a laugh from the watchers.

After an eternity, during which the snakes had become increasingly bored and begun twitching around me, she finally curtsied her way out into our crowd to wild applause. The lights went out, throwing the room into suffocating black once more. "Go!" someone called quietly, I wasn't sure who, and we flooded out the path onto the stage into our positions. We knew them all by heart, for it was the same vignette we ended each show with. I waited until I'd heard the ladder creak as Doll bolted up it, and then scrambled halfway up, snakes coiling onto the rungs around me. As the lights returned for the last time that night, I smiled, filled with pleasure that the show had gone so well.

After a thousand rounds of applause, the spectators finally began to leave. We waited until they were gone, and then sprang out of our positions. I collected the snakes and walked outside, for once grateful for the chill of nighttime. Doll walked by without meeting my eyes, costume still slightly bloodstained, and I wondered how long she would be mad at me.

Performances are _tiring_. You never realize it when you're onstage, with the lights and audience and adrenaline. It hits afterwards, like a ton of rock, so all you want to do is fall asleep and never wake up. Except for the knowledge that there will be another show tomorrow night, and then the next day, and the next, with hardly a break to change locations. Those thoughts can keep you going through anything, because the stage is addictive and the habit's impossible to break.

For the whole of the afternoon and evening, I had forgotten my upset in the morning. Then it all came back, in a wave that nearly swamped me. _Freak_. That was all I was. I wasn't the one who got all the applause; hell, they hardly noticed me leave. No, I was the creature to be pointed and whispered at, to later tell stories of to friends and relatives. Half snake and half human. _Animal_. The words repeated themselves incessantly through my head, winding like the steady chant of an old pipe organ, until I was ready to start screaming just so I wouldn't have to hear them anymore.

I sat down on my bed and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. A familiarly serpentine body slithered across my back and up my neck, accompanied by a quiet voice. "You know you're worth more than that," Emily hissed.

"Worth? What am I now, goods to be bought and sold? Not even animal?" I refused to raise my head, concealing the hot tears I was ashamed to feel leaking from my eyes.

"If you don't want to feel better, then I won't try," she said, and went silent. I immediately regretted my anger.

"I'm sorry," I managed to say through a mouthful of fabric.

"Accepted," Emily responded, curling up on the sheets next to me. "Now get outside for a while. I don't want you to kill yourself or something because you felt too sorry for yourself to do anything." I hesitated. "Just go. Leave me alone." She yawned, if it were possible for snakes to yawn, and turned her head away from me.

Sensing a dismissal, I left.

Evening is ridiculously cold to a serpent. Stepping out of the stifling heat of a circus tent it may be pleasant, but under no other circumstances. I stretched again, already shivering in the wind, and turned aimlessly around, trying to figure out what I was going to do.

Voices close by caught my attention. Dagger and Doll, still costumed, were facing each other across an alleyway between tents. I moved towards them, trying to catch their conversation.

"Dagger, what's wrong?" Doll asked, stepping closer to him.

"Nothing," he said stubbornly.

"We've done that act for years and you've never hurt me before. I _know _something's up."

"It's none of your business!"

"I think it might be. If you're going to stab me every time we do that then I'm not being your target anymore." She folded her arms.

"It won't happen again. Look, I know, and I'm sorry, but…" He stopped, turning pink.

"But what?"

"But I'm not telling you. Let well enough alone."

"No."

His voice dropped to what would have been a roar if it hadn't been a whisper. "Doll! Leave_ be_."

"Fine, then. But I'm _not _doing that again without an explanation," she said, shooting a glare at him and stalking away. He didn't appear to notice.

I hurried after Doll, catching up with her just as she reached her room. "What was that about?" I asked, and then added, "Says Goethe." She didn't have to know there was no one else with me.

"Nothing," she said angrily, and vanished inside the tent. I turned back towards where Dagger had been, and found him absent.

His tent was a dozen yards or so further down the alley. I walked towards it, thinking about the argument I had just witnessed. Doll understandably wanted to know why he'd hurt her. But why was he being so reticent?

There was only one person in the tent when I reached it, and it wasn't Dagger. Rachel sat in a back corner of the room, buried in a thick book. A lamp glowed softly behind her, casting just enough light for me to make out the title. _The Arabian Nights_.

"Hello," I said, not wanting to disturb her. She looked up, eyes widening briefly before she registered my identity.

"Oh. It's you," she said. "What do you want?"

"Has Dagger been here tonight?"

"No. Why?"

"I want to talk to him. See you tomorrow." I left more confused than when I entered.

Beast's tent was right next to his. I steeled myself to enter the combative, irritating woman's domain.

"What do you want?" she demanded immediately.

"Do you know where Dagger is?" She looked surprised.

"…no," she said at last, looking away.

"You're lying," I said flatly. "He was here just a few minutes ago. I can smell him."

"Yes, he was here, but I don't know where he went!" she confessed, still not meeting my eyes. I wondered what she was trying to hide.

"You're lying again," I whispered. "I'll find him myself, then."

"As you like. Just get the hell out of my tent."

_Author's Note: Shounen ai begins in a few paragraphs. Go ahead and skip down to the bottom if you don't want to read it._

I was glad to be out. Her thick perfume and the heat from several lamps she had set up were almost unbearable. There were only a few other places Dagger could be. My tent was unlikely; we were friends, but he had no reason to be there. Wendy and Peter's was equally doubtful. Doll lived in the second tier tents, where he would probably not be, and Jumbo's room was also improbable. That left…

"Joker," I hissed, and set off. The flaps on his tent were tied shut when I reached it, and in retrospect I probably should have left him alone, but I ignored that and entered anyways.

The cool night air went suddenly, oppressively hot. I froze as my brain registered what my eyes had been watching for several seconds. Two figures stood intertwined in the center of the tent, quite obviously kissing. One's hand slid down the other's back, and then, to my shock, further down. I coughed loudly, face flaming. One of the room's occupants tilted his head up, eyes still shut. "Leave us alone, Beast," he muttered, not opening his eyes. "Can't you see we're busy?"

"It's me. Snake," I said quietly, and the spell shattered. The figures leapt apart. Joker's shirt hung open, revealing a lattice of scars across his ribcage. A furiously blushing Dagger looked everywhere but at me.

"Oh," we all said as one. I took a step back.

"I'll just…be going now," I choked out. Dagger grinned a familiar grin, flush fading, and looped his arm lazily around Joker's waist. Joker looked at him sternly and stepped slightly away.

"Don't leave. I wanted to talk to you," he said. "Dagger, give us a few minutes? I have something to ask him. We'll resume where we left off." He winked. Heat rose in my face.

"You're sure he won't tell?" Dagger asked suspiciously.

"I helped Snake out with something a while ago, something I'm quite sure he wants kept between us, and was never compensated." A half smile formed across Joker's face. "I'll take silence as payment."

"You can't blackmail me!" I spluttered.

"Watch us," Dagger said cockily. He kissed the redhead on the cheek and left.

_Author's Note: Oops. Poor Snake didn't need to see that. And I cry your pardon for the lateness; the universe conspired against me. So, for those of you who skipped that last bit, Snake walks in on Joker and Dagger kissing. He's about to leave when Joker tells him that they need to talk about something. Because I'm such a nice person, I'm leaving you with this lovely cliffhanger. What's Joker going to ask? And what favor does Snake owe him? Also, I am terribly sorry for any out of character bits and for the probably chronologically inaccurate profanity. Turns out people didn't swear much in Victorian England, and yes, I researched this. The next chapter will probably be very innuendoful but with nothing explicit. Author out._


	3. Darkness

_Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter is kind of a piece of crap. I basically ignored my beta – my apologies, Viscountess! – and declared that after working on it for a month and a half I wasn't going to change anything else. So bits of it are random and uncoordinated and don't work. Eventually I'll come back and edit it. Maybe._

As the heavy cloth flapped back into place, I turned to Joker, but was unable to figure out what I wanted to ask of him, and for once there were no snakes in my head to put words in my mouth. Fortunately, he took care of that for me.

"Sorry about that," he said, not sounding particularly sorry. A smile still curled at the corner of his mouth. I nodded, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Why did you think I was Beast?" I finally asked.

"She's the only one who would be audacious enough to come in with the doors tied shut. Well, I thought she was. I was obviously wrong."

"She knows about…the two of you? Does anyone else?"

"How long do you think we could have hidden it from her? Obviously you know, and I think others have their suspicions, but they don't want to think about it, and so they don't pry. Doll has no idea, as far as I can tell, so I would be obliged if you would refrain from mentioning it in her presence." He sat down on the bed, kicking scattered items of cloth under it and fumbling for a match to light the lamp. The glow bloomed through the room. I hadn't even been aware of the darkness. Right on cue, the mocking song began in my head. _Outcast, monster, inhuman, freak_. I pushed it to the back of my mind, along with the other uncomfortable memories that had begun to resurface.

I stood in silence for several minutes, watching Joker straighten out the room, seemingly for something to do rather than because it was out of order – although it was. "What did you want to ask me?" I said at last.

"Hm?"

"You said you wanted a favor from me. What was it?"

"Oh. That. Can Rachel share a tent with you for a while?" I choked.

"_What_? Why?"

"She can't stay with Dagger forever. He hasn't got enough room to bring in another bed, just a small cot, and while I don't imagine he'd try anything – his loyalties lie far enough to the other side to ensure that – neither do I think she would be comfortable with it."

"No, I understand…that, but why me?"

"Look, I can't clarify most of this now, and I apologize, but there are things I would rather leave her to tell you herself." He sat down on the bed again, and then stood back up restlessly. "All I'll say at the moment is that you can protect her better than could anyone else here, and she may need it."

"How do you know I won't just kill her myself?" I snapped, and immediately regretted it.

He looked at me steadily, violet eyes cool and gray in the dimness. "Because I trust you. Yes, despite everything. Do you want to give me reason not to?" I didn't answer. "If you don't want to do it, then I'll find someone else who's willing to."

"She's a girl," I got around to pointing out at last.

"Yeah, I hadn't figured that out myself. Does it pose a problem?" He winked.

"No. Yes. That's not…I wasn't thinking about _that_."

"Really?" I glared.

"Yes, really." I cut myself off. Let him figure out what I had meant.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, running a hand through his hair. "You want to know why I would place someone so obviously vulnerable with someone who has done what you have. You killed someone, someone as helpless as she is, in circumstances not unlike this." I flinched to hear the blatant accusation in his voice. "So why would I do it? It's because I don't want that to be your last thought of yourself. _I _know that you won't let it happen again. You don't, and you need to. You can't love unless you get over that."

"If I don't want to? If I don't want to forget what I did? You have no idea what it is to live with that on your shoulders." I retreated back into quiet, refusing to allow myself too much emotion. If I didn't want to love?

"It was accidental, and you and I both know it. You had no idea you could do it." When I didn't respond, he continued without looking at me. "Did you ever go to church?"

"What?" I asked, startled out of my silence. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I just thought…you've never told anyone about what happened, have you? I'm the only one who knows?" He apparently took my lack of answer as affirmative. "It helps some people to go to confession. 'Unburden your soul,' or whatnot."

"No," I said flatly, and turned the next statement into a question. "I didn't know you were religious?"

He made a face. "I'm not. Dagger goes to Mass when he can, although that's not often, and I think he just does it to atone for whatever sin we committed the night before." I took a moment to grasp his meaning, and then felt the blood rush to my face for the umpteenth time that night. He grinned wickedly. My blush darkened. Exaggerated contrition wrote itself all across his face. "Sorry, sorry." He rolled his eyes. "So, lovely weather we've been having, isn't it?"

"Rainy," I grunted.

"A little rain never hurt anyone."

"Too cold," I elaborated.

"Funny, I've had no trouble staying warm." He smirked suggestively, eyebrows raised. I was sure he was doing this just to watch my discomfort, and it was working. I clamped my mouth shut, refusing to give him any more material.

Winding scales around my ankle startled me into a gasp. "Damnit, Emily!" I snarled softly, flinching as her cold body wrapped around the sensitive skin behind my knee. "Don't _do_ that!"

"Why not?" she pouted, poking her head out my collar. I hissed angrily. Joker was watching my new companion and me, apparently quite entertained by our quarrel.

"You two fight just like lovers, you know?" he commented. My irritation was instantly diverted towards him.

"_What_?" Emily's stony tone mirrored my own, and I was quite sure Joker wouldn't need to understand her words to comprehend the sentiment. He raised both hands.

"It's true," he defended, shrinking away from our combined fury. "Just the tone in your…voices…is exactly how Beast says Dagger and I get when we have a spat."

"You do. Says Emily," I responded, then did a double take. "Emily! Did you know about them?"

"Assuming you just said what I think, of course she did," Joker answered. "Why do you think she's always flirting with Dagger? She helps keep it from being quite so obvious."

"And more to the point, _we do not act like lovers_!" My irrational frustration was removing the usual inhibitions I had against speaking for myself.

Emily pushed herself further into the empty space between Joker and I, and I didn't like the look in her slitted eyes. Without warning, she reversed the direction in which she had been coiling and brushed her lips, such as they were, along mine. I yelped and jumped back, which accomplished nothing, as Emily was still curled around my neck. Growling every curse I knew in quick succession, I gripped her around the neck and dragged her out of my collar. She dangled from my fingers, grinning flirtatiously. I rolled my eyes and dropped her. Joker was shaking with the effort of not laughing. I glared.

Muttering dire threats under my breath, I turned to leave, and almost ran squarely into Beast, in an uncharacteristically modest white nightgown. She looked from me to Joker and back again, then shook her head. "I won't ask."

"Hm?" Joker stood up to move closer to her.

"I thought you and Dagger were…ah…together tonight, Joker. He walked past my tent looking annoyed, to say the least. I came in to see what was going on. Are you two fighting again? And what's Snake doing here?"

"He…walked in on us," Joker said, having at least the decency to blush. "I had some questions for him, so I asked Dagger to give us a few minutes. I didn't think he would take it the wrong way. Where is he?"

"Back to his tent, I think. He didn't look very happy."

"Oh. I'll go…" Joker started forwards.

"No need," Dagger said over Beast's shoulder. Smiling faintly, she moved to let him take her place just inside the doorway. I looked uncomfortably between the two men, and after a frozen moment pushed past Dagger to get out.

I looked back only long enough to see Joker make the same gesture I'd seen before, pushing a lock of hair out of the younger man's face in a way that was almost brotherly, and then kiss him in a way that was decidedly not. I left in a hurry, not wanting to see _any _more.

Staring at the feeble gleam of the moon through the heavy fabric ceiling, I tried to sort my thoughts out, ignoring Emily when she entered and curled up in the corner. Joker and Dagger were…together. I couldn't really say it had been unexpected, if I thought about how they acted with each other. No, it definitely hadn't been. I sat up, striking a match and setting alight the lamp beside my bed, and picked up the book I had left on the table. A small cloud of dust bloomed from the pages as I opened them to an arbitrary spot close to the back.

"Hello?" someone called quietly from outside. I looked up, startled. I hadn't been paying attention to anything but the book.

"It's Rachel," Emily informed me, sounding bored. Sighing, I opened the door for her.

"Evening," I greeted her curtly. "Why are you here? Says Emily."

"Dagger came in half an hour or so ago and told me they were moving me to your tent. They meant to do it tomorrow, but I don't have much to move, so I thought I would come now."

"Do you want help? Says Wilde."

"Just with my cot, if you would." I nodded and ducked outside behind her, tent flap brushing my back as I let it down. "Thank you."

I cleared my throat. "How was your first day at the circus?"

"It was interesting," she said finally.

"What do you think of us? Says Emily." The speaker appeared in front of us as if by magic. I knelt down to pick her up, letting her slide up my sleeve and out through my collar.

"Hm. Freckles, or Doll, or whichever she usually goes by, is nice, but, well, she talks too much for me." I raised my eyebrows. Hardly anyone outside of the first tier even knew that Freckles and Doll were the same person.

"I can't say I disagree. Says Emily."

"Beast, I…don't care for her. Dagger's funny, I like him, and," she colored slightly, "Joker's quite attractive." I had to wonder, then. She'd picked up on Doll's alter ego, did she know about Joker and Dagger? It didn't seem unlikely. I decided to wait and see if she said anything.

I wasn't waiting long. "And yes, I know the two of them are lovers," she added.

"How? Says Emily." And why didn't she seem to care? It wasn't like it was a commonplace thing.

She laughed. "It's hardly a secret, is it? The way they act…"

"You and I and Beast are the only others who know." I ignored Emily's comments.

"Oh. Er…well, they kind of gave it away this afternoon. When we first met." I recalled the event she referred to, and blushed. "You should have seen the look on Joker's face when he thought you would attack me. Only it wasn't me he was so scared for – Dagger was the one holding me."

"I see." I hadn't noticed that.

"They really love each other. However unconventionally." She trailed off. "Anyways, I never apologized for that. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. The mistake was an understandable one, I guess. Says Emily." Rachel shot half a glare at me.

"I don't want to hear how Emily feels about it."

We reached Dagger's tent before I could respond. It was darkened, and everything had been left in neat order. You'd hardly know anyone lived there. "You really don't have anything, do you? Says Emily."

"Just my cot and blankets, like I said. And a few books and clothes, but I can get those myself."

Walking back with the light pad slung over one shoulder, I remained largely silent, breaking only to shift my load's position or relay a few words from Emily. Rachel talked aimlessly, softly, more to herself than me. I wondered why; she didn't seem like the type to chatter so. It was as though she was trying to distract someone – herself or me?

I had already started to set up her cot on the opposite side of the room from my bed when I realized she was still standing at the door. "Rachel?" I glanced towards her.

"Put the lamp on. Please," she said stiffly. Her eyes were blind and unblinking in the twilight dimness, hands curled like claws at her sides. I could see the pulse throbbing along her jawline, the thin muscles clenched in her shoulders.

"…what?" I turned to face her fully, surprised at how pale she looked compared to the dark cloth of the doors.

"Please, Snake," she said again.

"Idiot," Emily muttered in my ear. "Can't you see she's terrified? Light the damn lamp." I struck a match and touched it to the wick, watching the sudden burst of light closely and listening as Rachel breathed out in relief. I kept my eyes courteously averted as she sagged back against a tent pole, shuddering.

"You're afraid of the dark? Says Wilde." He slid out from under my bed to join us.

"Yes," she said tautly. "I…I don't need much light, just enough that it isn't complete black."

"Do you want the lamp on your side of the room? Says Emily."

"No, it's alright. But leave it burning, please." She crossed to where I was standing nervously by the mattress. "I'm fine now. Thank you." I could still feel her trembling against me as she pushed me lightly back towards my bed. "Turn around." She unfolded a nightgown, most likely one of Doll's, and I faced the wall shyly as she slipped it on, ignoring Emily's jeers. "There."

She, apparently, fell asleep without issue despite her earlier terror, leaving me lying awake trying to absorb the day's events. Too much had happened, much too much. Had it really only been a day? For all I could tell, it could have been a week, even a month, so slowly had it passed.

I waited an hour or so after her breathing steadied into the soft rhythm of sleep, thinking meditatively over what had been happening, then leaned over and blew out the lamp. Leaving it burning with us both asleep didn't seem like the safest of ideas. Immediately, though, I heard her shift, slow inhalations becoming panicked gasps. She bolted upright, wide eyed, with a quiet cry she quickly stifled. "What's happening?"

"It's okay," I said, trying my hardest to sound soothing confronted with the agonizingly stark fear in her eyes. "The lamp went out. Don't worry." I relit it, and she relaxed. Well, I wouldn't do that again. In a whisper, I asked Emily to stay up and keep an eye on it.

"Why me? Make Dan do it," she protested softly.

"No. He's already asleep."

"Fine," she grumbled, curling up around the lamp's circle of golden heat with a discontented murmur.

Time passed, although given the distorted length of the day I had no idea how long it might have been. A minute, an hour, who knew?

"Are you still up, Snake?" Rachel's voice was blurred with fatigue.

"Yes."

She was silent for a moment. Then, "Are you that afraid of anything?"

The flashes of memory I had managed to suppress for over a year, the ones that had been threatening to return all night, began to spin before my eyes. _Moonlight shafted through shining bars, burning wind, the harsh snap of a whip, rough scars still lacing my back, and the scene changed. Pale skin, cold as stone, eyes glassy as a porcelain doll's. So many voices all screaming at once. Guilt burning me, dark as fire, hot and sudden as lightning. _

"No," I answered after a moment. "No." Nothing at all, I repeated mentally, trying to reassure myself. I wasn't there anymore. I never would be again. Never again. Never.

Wilde said something quickly, too quickly for me to catch. "What?" I asked him, mouth dry.

"You're lying," he repeated. "Why hide from her?"

I took a moment to compose an answer. "I don't…I'm not bringing that up again. It happened. I know it, and I'm ashamed, and I'm afraid that it will happen again," I admitted in a rush. "But can't there just be one person I can be innocent for?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he answered. "Does anyone know but us?"

"Joker. He helped…"

"What about Joker?" Rachel asked. I had almost forgotten she was there, and anxiety filled me as I thought she had heard our conversation. But no, that was absurd. We had scarcely spoken a word of English.

"Nothing," I answered her, and the room went silent.

After minutes of quiet, I finally lay down and rolled over, pulling blankets up to cover my face. Slowly, I felt myself drift off into the dreamless sleep of true exhaustion.

_Author's Note: Late chapter again! Very late. I should be back on schedule soon, though, because school's just ended. Lots of mysterious memories in this chapter, but not to worry, the next couple chapters will be enormous amounts of background. Actually, no, the next one will probably be shameless fluff, and then there will be background. But still. The real plot starts just after that. Be warned, it's quite depressing. So, that's about all. Author out._


	4. Play

Moving to a new location was always hectic, never more so than now. Freckles had dragged me out of bed unfairly early in the morning, sun not yet up, and ordered me to get my stuff together. I complied sleepily, trying to avoid waking Rachel. It wasn't like I had much to pack, anyways. My two sets of clothing, performance and ordinary shoes, and several books all fit in a single canvas bag. The sparse furnishings in my tent would all be moved separately, along with everyone else's.

It took a moment for me to notice that Rachel was awake and watching me. "Good morning." She sounded far more alert than I felt.

I nodded, unwilling to make the effort to speak. She swung one leg out of bed, grimaced, and muttered, "If you can't be civil, would you at least pass me those?" I looked around, trying to find what she was indicating. My gaze fell on the false arm and leg left neatly at the foot of her bed. I handed them to her, surprised at how light they were. She rolled her eyes. "_Thank_ you."

Irritable and lethargic, I left the tent, only half listening to the commotion around me. Freckles was darting gleefully around, trying to keep things in order and generally causing chaos, Beast was shouting at a silent Jumbo, and Joker and Dagger were nowhere to be seen. Beast was silent for a moment, and Jumbo took the opportunity to say something quiet, drawing an irritable glare from her. Peter stuck his head out of his tent, sighed, and vanished back inside.

Eventually, as ever, we managed to get well enough organized to move. After the loud start to the day, the dull silence of the trip was a blessing. Hours rolled by, measured only in the slow progress of the clouds in the pale sky. By the time we reached our destination, a small town called Folkestone, located very near the ocean, it was past noon and the sky was a nearly cloudless shade of sapphire, almost matching our first glimpse of the sea.

"Okay, I'm going to be pretty loose about rules today," Joker declared, gathering the circus together. "So if you don't want to sleep out in the open, have your tent set up by tonight. Along those lines, if you want to be able to eat, help set up the mess hall, want to practice, help with the tent, you get the point. Besides that, just try not to get too badly injured; we have performances already set up for the next few nights. There's a path to the beach over that way," he gestured, "and apparently the walk is well worth it."

Predictably few people stayed behind. The narrow trail, winding through a field of kneehigh grass, was packed with chattering crowds, our colorful clothes a vivid contrast to the subdued green. Rachel and I walked together in companionable silence, each lost in our own world.

My thoughts, compared with the turmoil of the previous day, were almost empty, as though the fresh air and saltwater were washing them straight out of my head. Heat from the sunlight poured down, casting small, crisp shadows to one side of the path. They wavered slightly in the rippling leaves, like the shimmering waves rising from the hot ground. For the first in a long while, Emily was silent, though I could feel her moving restlessly. Wilde, Goethe, and Keats had refused to be carried and were gliding contentedly along beside me, while Dan and Bronte wrapped around my wrists like bracelets. Webster, Wordsworth, and Oscar had stayed behind.

The beach turned out to be about half a mile from our designated camp. It was wide, with gritty pale sand, sloping gently down to smooth pebbles rounded by waves, and then further down to calm ocean. Two long stone jetties framed the rolling blue, creating an endless wash of noise as the water sloshed against them. Farther out, the tip of an enormous rock was barely visible above the receding high tide, surrounded by masses of dark, swirling seaweed.

With shrieks of laughter, Freckles and some of the other younger members plunged into the water, almost immediately catapulting themselves back out at the sudden cold. I planted myself far above the line of tangled black seaweed marking the highest water level, enjoying the feel of warm sand running through my fingers as I traced spiraling patterns in it. Rachel sat beside me, a few feet away, and so, to my surprise, did Beast.

I ignored the older woman, instead sketching a rough portrait of the younger in the sand. The subject of my artwork looked over my shoulder. "What is that? A sheep?"

"Your artistic talent appears somewhat lacking," Emily commented wryly, giggling. I ran my hand through the failed drawing, obliterating it completely.

"I'd like to see you do better," I hissed back at her.

Of course, she took that as a challenge. Minutes later, another sketch had appeared in the sand, of somewhat better quality than mine, I had to admit. I glared at Dan and Goethe, who had joined Emily's portrayal. "You just had to take her side, didn't you?"

"Is that supposed to be me?" Rachel asked. In response, Emily added a mustache to the portrait with her tail. "Hey!" Rachel swatted a handful of sand at the grinning snake, who flicked an equal amount back. Beast and I surreptitiously moved away as it became a fullblown sand fight.

"Snake, could I speak with you for a minute?" Beast said sweetly. The friendly tone in her voice was more than slightly frightening. She pulled me off to the side.

"What do you want?" I demanded, much more harshly than I intended.

"A word." Her grip loosened once we were out of anyone else's earshot, and I jerked my wrist away from her. She looked straight at me. "I don't care _what _you think of Joker and Dagger now," she whispered fiercely, "but you do _anything _to hurt either of them because of it and I will _personally _make your life a living _hell_."

"I don't…" I stumbled. "I wouldn't…" Finally, I managed to arrange my thoughts into some sort of coherent sentence. "It isn't anything anyone else should be concerned with. If no one's being hurt by it," – an important distinction, something cold and taut and cruel inside of me whispered – "it's no one's business what they…like."

"Good," she said, backing away. "Just thought I would make that clear." She sank down onto the sand again, and, awkwardly, I joined her.

After a moment, she murmured, "Sometimes I envy them."

I wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"Not the secrecy," she continued. "I'd give anything to let them be open about it without being hurt. But…I've never found anyone I could love so deeply." She looked up, suddenly seeming unexpectedly young. "You probably don't want to hear about it, hm?" I took the opportunity to leave, unsettled by the sudden pity I felt for her.

Rachel and the snakes had stopped fighting when I rejoined them, and were instead sprawled happily across the sand. Emily was naming pictures in the clouds. "Cat," I heard her say, then, "flower, heart, skull…um…amorphous blob…"

"A bit of incongruity there?" I said teasingly.

"Shut up."

There was a shout from the water. I whipped around, momentarily panicked, before listening to what was actually being said. "Come on, everybody, let's _do _something!" Freckles cried.

"Must we?" Rachel said. There was a moment's chatter amidst Freckles and her companions.

"We're playing hide and seek," she announced at last. "_Everyone _is." The tone in her voice left no room for discussion. Reluctantly, I got to my feet, brushing sand off my legs with one hand.

Rachel jumped up beside me, then stumbled. "Whoa." Instinctively, I caught her around the waist before she could fall, and then jerked away as I realized what I'd done.

"Excuse me." I stayed back a careful distance as she straightened. The imprint of a raised line on her hip seemed to tingle along my palm. A scar?

"It's fine." She blinked and ran a hand over her eyes. "Sorry. I stood up too fast."

"Are you alright?"

She laughed ruefully. "Just got dizzy for a minute. Really. I'll be fine."

"Come _on_, you guys!" Freckles called. I looked around, and realized we were the only ones not gathered around her. When we came closer, closing the circle, she giggled and started chanting. "Snake and Rachel, sittin' in a tree…"

"Shut it." Rachel glared, then began to laugh herself.

"Alright, are we playing or not?" Freckles said finally. "You all know how, right? You hide, Emma and I seek."

If I had to play, I might as well have fun with it. I began to scan the landscape for a hiding spot. Behind where one of the jetties extended onto the sand? Under the enormous mat of seaweed at the water's edge? _In _the water? I discarded those as too obvious, too hot, and too wet. What about inside the jetties? The spaces between boulders were surely large enough to hide in. I decided to look for a spot on the opposite side of the rocks.

"We'll count to a hundred," Freckles declared. She and Emma began to count. "One, two…" We scattered, feet sticking and staggering in the deep sand. I turned around the stone wall and began to inspect the gaps. "…twenty five, twenty six…" The first that caught my eye was too small to fit into, the second too open. A second tier member I didn't recognize was crowded into the third. "…thirty two, thirty three…" I continued along the line, finally reaching the end with no better hiding place. "…fifty four, fifty five…" Seeing no other option, I sprinted back across the beach to the other jetty, hot sunlight feeling altogether too much like a spotlight on my back. "…seventy nine, eighty, eighty one…" The next few were too enclosed, after that too obvious. Gasping for breath – running in sand is _difficult _– I squeezed my way headfirst into the first suitable opening I found. "…ninety four, ninety five…"

The spot I had found was tight to fit into, scarcely wider than my shoulders, but opened out into a small cave easily large enough to curl up in. I turned, hoping the black fabric of my jacket would help to disguise me, and then swallowed back a yelp as something's breath brushed my cheek. "Who's there?" I said, voice small in the cold shadows.

"It's just me," Rachel answered. I scanned the tiny space, and located her pressed against one wall in a thin shaft of dull sunlight.

"One hundred!" I tried my hardest to be invisible. Footsteps swished through the sand far behind me. I resisted the temptation to turn around and look, instead wrapping my arms tighter around my knees. There was a laugh and a "Gotcha!" from Freckles and her companion, and a disappointed mutter from an unfamiliar voice. Seaweed rasped, and there was another yell. I assumed someone had taken my idea and hidden under the kelp washed up on the beach. Emma splashed into the water as I risked a glance over my shoulder, and caught Jumbo as he came up for breath.

Then there was silence for a while, apart from whispered speculations among the five now unhidden. I let myself relax slightly, just in time to be startled into motion by a shriek from outside. "Peter! You _buried _yourself?" Rachel rammed a hand over her mouth, stifling a choked giggle. I waited, but no one seemed to have noticed. Grinning now, I listened to the steps pattering up and over the other breakwater. Three more people were caught just there.

The padding feet crossed the sand to scramble up onto the rocks on our side.

"Rachel," I whispered. The footsteps came closer. "Crouch over so they can't see your head from on top of the jetty. There's a space they'll look down through right above you." Her bathing costume, borrowed off of Wendy, had probably once been green, but was now a remarkably stonelike shade of mossy gray. I hoped it would hide her well enough.

I held my breath as an eye appeared in the hole above us. Jumbo peered around, but in the dark seemed unable to distinguish our shapes. Horribly conscious of my pale skin and hair, I remained as still as I could. After a minute, his face pulled back, although I could have sworn he winked at me. "No one there," he called out.

The game ran on for half an hour before Freckles finally called all in free. Legs stiff, I uncurled and wormed my way out of the gap. Rachel followed, stretching and wincing in the sunlight. A silhouette appeared on top of the half submerged rock, now appreciably closer to the water's edge than it had been, and plunged in, swimming back to shore with quick, efficient strokes.

Dripping wet, Dagger splashed out of the water, laughing hysterically.

"How the bloody hell did you do that, lo…little brother?" Joker was trying to contain a grin.

"Language," Beast warned. He ignored her.

Dagger shrugged. "I held my breath."

"You got _all the way out _there without breathing?"

"Hey, I like swimming."

"You're unbelievable." Dagger winked and slid closer to him.

"In more ways than one," he breathed. Beast shot them a reproachful glare and mouthed something about the children. Said children had, of course, long since ceased to be interested and were playing a rather sluggish game of tag. Even the older members had joined in, aside from the five of us.

"I won't disagree," Joker murmured, earning himself another scolding look from Beast.

Dagger suddenly acquired an evil smile and wrapped his arms around Joker's waist. I looked pointedly off towards the horizon, where the sun was beginning to dip closer to the sea, and then back at the ensuing commotion.

"What're you…hey! You're all wet!" Joker shoved him away. "Get off!" His attacker thudded to the ground and shot back up undaunted. I couldn't help but smile at the nonsensical fight. Beside me, Rachel and Beast smothered grins.

"You're such _children_," Beast commented, rolling her eyes. Dagger looked up at her innocently.

"What makes you say that?"

Later that evening, limned in glittering sand and patches of damp, we made our way back to the camp. I spent several hours fighting with the tent, which adamantly refused to be put up properly. Sometimes I had thought that mess of fabric and wood had a mind of its own. Three poles would go up, and as I set the fourth one in the others fell. I got the supports up, and a gust of wind tore the cover out of my hands. I retrieved the heavy cloth, and came back to find the posts had collapsed again.

Of course, I eventually got the canvas mostly in the right place. Who cared if I'd lost the pegs to secure the fabric to the ground? Large rocks would work just as well. I glared at the slipshod structure before me.

"Looking for these?" Rachel emerged from the ruin of a tent with the bag of pegs in one hand.

"Yes, we were. Says Wilde," I relayed.

She stood back and looked speculatively at the dwelling. "Do you want some help with this?" I didn't reply. With a sigh, she started removing the stones I'd used to weight the edge of the cloth. After a moment, she glanced up. "You know, it might work better if the poles weren't leaning to the side so much."

I groaned and tugged the canvas back off, revealing a lopsided frame barely holding together. "Let me fix that. I don't want it falling in on our heads tonight," she sighed. "If you shift the leftmost pole so it's straight, it should pull the rest into the right shape." I did so, irritated at how easily it was fixed, and tossed the cover back over it. It fell neatly into place.

I swear it has a personal grudge against me.

We dragged our belongings into the tent, arranging them exactly as they had been before. I would say it was identical to our previous location, but, as I set the small table lamp alight and fell into bed, I realized it wasn't. The air was cooler, tasting more of the ocean than of city smoke. The soft, ambient noise of nighttime was different, too. Instead of the gentle birdsong and occasional noise of a passing carriage I had so quickly become used to, a soothing white noise filled the air, the sound of wind washing over long grass. Crickets added their musical thrum to the static, creating a steady purr interrupted periodically by a gull's wavering screech or an ebb of stronger wind.

Or by voices. I lay back, listening as the camp settled into near silence. Sitting in the mess hall, Beast and Jumbo talked quietly, sometimes startling into laughter, before departing to their own tents. There was an unceasing hum of conversation from the second tier members, which eventually died down to intermittent bursts of gossip. A few feet away, Rachel shifted in her sleep and muttered something I didn't understand.

Footsteps approached the tent, stealthily, and paused. Light breathing interrupted the soft noise of the darkness. I turned to face the sound, a bolt of anxiety snapping through me as the door opened, just a crack, admitting a tiny sliver of dim starlight. Unmoving, I stared at the gap. A black silhouette blocked out the stars, eyes faintly reflecting the lamp in two glinting gilded orbs. Below the eyes, another shape mirrored the glow with a softer intensity, warmer.

The gaze shifted. The eyes narrowed. The pulse of nervousness running through me sharpened into real fear at the baleful glare, but the figure didn't move. After what seemed an eternity, the door closed, plunging me back into a quiet dark only slightly lessened by lamplight. I shivered, pulling the covers further up over my neck. There was a momentary pause, and the delicate steps retreated, then stopped.

A pair of heavier treads replaced them, accompanied by two secretive voices.

Voice one laughed breathily, and I identified Dagger. "This is absurd, love, sneaking away from chaperones like this. I feel like a schoolboy."

"Not to me you don't," voice two – clearly Joker – answered amiably. "Now hush, or someone'll hear us. You can be as loud as you want once we get to the beach." I didn't miss the evident suggestion in his voice.

Neither did his lover. There was a gentle murmur of agreement, and a long silence filled with the whisper of cloth on cloth. I sighed and yanked the sheets over my head, which utterly failed to block the contented hum from Dagger. "Damn," he said breathlessly.

"Enough for now?" Laughter tinged Joker's voice. A pause. "Hey, did you see that? Look behind you." Sudden surprise laced the laughter.

"See what? There's nothing there…I think." Traces of concern lingered in his voice.

"Something moved. Right in back of you." He didn't sound sure any longer.

"Idiot." The insult sounded affectionate. There was a sound of motion and a sharp gasp. "Don't scare me like that."

"No biting, love," Joker murmured, and I buried my head under the pillow and tried to avoid hearing anything.

After several minutes, I dared to remove the soundblock and was relieved to find the almost silence of a sleeping world had resumed. Despite thoughts of the dark figure and the three pinpoints of light, I fell asleep easily.

_Author's Note: Sorry if you're reading this story because it's a Kuroshitsuji fanfiction that isn't yaoi, because I honestly can't resist putting scenes like that with Joker and Dagger in. So be warned. Yaoi. This was a fun chapter to write. Let us all cheer for random useless fluff because I felt like filling what ought to be an insanely depressing murder mystery with pointless happy stuff. It will get depressing soon. Like, really, really depressing. Because it's a murder mystery. And therefore people die. Oh well. Celebrate the fluff while it lasts._


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